Stealing Hearts (Zayn Malik Fanfiction)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

9.30pm: I know you’re home. Open the door.

9.34pm: Waiting here…

9.37pm: Where is that damn spare key anyway… It’s not in the vase.

9.39pm: For your information, I’m not leaving your front door until I’ve seen you’re alive.

9.41pm: KNOCKING ON THE WALL DOES NOT COUNT, EVELYN!

Harry’s texts come in, one after the other, making me turn crazy. I’m lying in my bed, lights out and I’m trying to sleep… But he is standing there from 9 pm and I have the strong feeling he isn’t going to leave until I let him in. I dread it though. Because I know he’ll be asking questions and I don’t want to answer any of them.

It’s been a week since my first and last phone call with Zayn. I don’t see him, I don’t hear him. There is just nothing. The fact that Harry knows Zayn, just makes me even more determined not to open the door. I can’t stand the idea of him asking where the dark haired boy is and if he comes to Liam’s café soon. Not that he would’ve come anyway. I knew from the moment Harry asked it on the night they met, that it wouldn’t happen. And maybe it’s even for the better Zayn isn’t here anymore. Now he won’t need to explain to Harry why he isn’t able to come, although I’m sure he would’ve come up with a great excuse.

I hear my phone beeping again.

9.45pm: I’m going to force this door if you don’t open it after a minute. Start counting now. 

I sigh when I get myself out of bed. If I didn’t know Harry as well as I did, I wouldn’t bother. But now I can’t take the risk. He will force that door if I don’t let him in. So I stumble to the living room in the darkness, trying to find the light switch. It hurts my eyes when all the lights flicker on and it takes me a couple of seconds to get used to it.

‘Ten, nine, eight…’ I suddenly hear Harry’s voice count down outside my door, making me roll my eyes while quickly fasten my pace towards where his voice comes from.

I open it at the count of three.

‘Well, hello stranger.’ Harry raises his eyebrow. He is leaning against the wall of the corridor and somehow looks surprised I actually did open the door. He gets back on his feet again and walks past me into my apartment.

‘Harry.’ I mutter, closing the door again after him. I see Harry walk to the cabinet with alcoholic drinks and take out  two bottles of red wine, my personal favourite. After that he continues his pace towards the kitchen and brings back a bottle-opener that was hidden in one of my drawers. My mind can’t figure out what he’s doing.

I keep standing on my spot when I see him open the two bottles at the same time. ‘Why two?’ I wonder, not able to keep my curiosity to myself.

‘One for you and one for me.’

‘Oh.’ I just let out. He points to the one person chair, telling me I need to sit down. Then he gives me a bottle of red wine, and he takes the other one in his hand, placing himself on the bigger sofa, closest to me.

‘Harry, you do realize it’s thursday and not friday?’

‘Yes. Why?’

‘I need to work tomorrow, I can’t have a hangover.’

‘Of course, you can’t.’ He rolls his eyes like it’s obvious. ‘I’m not letting you drink the whole bottle. It’s just the idea of drinking OUT of the bottle. It’s cool. Try it!’ He gives the example by bringing the bottle to his lips and taking at least three big slugs of wine. ‘Come on. Drink, Evelyn. You need it more than I do.’